I'll Be Your Safety
by AWaywardHunter
Summary: Years after Gendry and Arya were separated, they meet once more. Much has changed. Can they forgive one another? Can they still be family?
1. Chapter 1 - A Reunion

**Chapter 1 – A reunion**

**A/N**

**Hi guys! This is my first Game of Thrones and my first Gendrya fic. I got the whole idea from the Ed Sheeran song 'Kiss Me' and it's all kind of based around the lyrics.  
Please keep in mind that I haven't read the books, I only watch the show.**

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_**I've fallen for your eyes**__**  
But they don't know me yet**_

It had been a good many years since Arya Stark had laid eyes on Gendry, son of Robert of House Baratheon and heir to the iron throne. In fact, the last time she had seen him, he was being carted off by a fire-haired witch as her heart broke. She had still been a young girl then, a child really. She had been grieving the death of her beloved father while becoming evermore caught up in the war that was wreaking havoc on the seven kingdoms.

Arya had been scared and lonely then. Gendry, the only one by her side, the only one there to cover her up on the cold nights. But much had changed since those days.

The Battle of King's Landing had yet to take place; the defeat of the Lannisters and of Stannis Baratheon at the hands of Daenerys Targaryen and Robb Stark's armies; the Alliance - a sacred and binding treaty between the three new ruling parties to sustain peace, freedom and equality - had not been formed; the white walkers not fought off by the dragons and their mother. It was a very different world they now lived in.

Now, Arya had not only grown into her role as Lady Stark of Winterfell, but, at 24, was an expert swordsman and archer. It was widely known that she was the strongest and most fierce warrior in the North, a force to be reckoned with. No man would dare challenge her without fear of pain or death.

And Gendry, climbing off of his horse in front of Arya, well he was a different man too.

There was silence as King Gendry dismounted in the rebuilt courtyard of Winterfell. A sign of respect, not fear. Nobody knelt.

When the King and his party were off their horses they stepped forward to greet the remaining members of the House of Stark.

"Welcome Your Grace," Robb's warm greeting rang out as he stepped forward to embrace the man. Gendry returned the gesture with ease, stepping back after a moment, though still maintaining a firm grip on Robb's shoulders.

"Who are you calling 'Your Grace', King in the North?" Gendry replied in a fake mocking tone and the men laughed together. "I trust you have both been well?" he went on to ask Robb and his wife Talisa, who stood at his side.

"We have," she replied smiling, pulled the twins, young Thea and Jon, to her side and ruffling their hair, "all of us." Gendry spoke with the kids for a good minute or so before moving on to greet Lady Sansa and her distinguished yet humble husband, the good-looking Lord Maerys Doulton from across the Narrow Sea. As they greeted one another, Sansa and Maerys' third-born, the six year old Brandon approached them from behind. He jumped forward - almost tripping as the helmet which adorned his head slipped over his eyes and the fur cloak which dwarfed him tangled around his feet – and attempted to scare his siblings Cate and Eddrick, who were standing proudly at their parents' side.

As Sansa scolded her mischievous son and Maerys and Gendry shared a smile, Arya, who looked on, was reminded of a different time, a different King's visit, a different adventurous and innocent child. Herself. Many many moons ago.

Bile rose in her throat as she thought of how history was repeating itself. _No, everything is different now_, she told herself trying to control the dread. _There is no more war, no more unnecessary suffering or death. _

Abruptly, Arya was torn from her thoughts. The King stood in front of her now. And she was alone. Though her brother and sister had both encouraged her many times over the past years to settle down and marry, there stood no man nor children at her side.

Slowly she lifted her eyes from the ground up to his face. A stubbly, unshaven chin; shoulder length brown hair; soft curving lips; straight nose; a faint set of frown and worry lines etched into his forehead. Each of these Arya registered individually before finally taking in the face before her fully. It was Gendry, changed but the same. Different from how she remembered and yet still himself.

As Arya looked into his eyes she saw both a man that she knew better than any other, with whom she had shared some of the most terrible and intimate experiences of her life, and a man that she knew not at all. Yet, at least.

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******It was only going to be a one-shot but it grew a bit in my mind so there will be a bit more (and possibly some more still if you review/give me feedback :P)  
**So what do you think; do I waffle? anything you want to be expanded on? etc.


	2. Chapter 2 - A Stubborn Heart

**A/N Hey everyone! Overwhelmed that this has gotten so much attention; thank you all for reading/following/favouriting and thanks for all the encouragement in the reviews! Made me feel all warm and tingly. I've had a hectic week and you guys definitely kept me motivated to get this next chapter up asap. Sorry it still took so long _**

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"Arya," was all Gendry offered by way of a verbal greeting. Arya offered nothing.

Gendry smiled softly, briefly, at Arya before moving on to greet others in the courtyard. Arya stood frozen in place. She had needed to look up to look into his face, but not nearly as much as she had used to; she'd grown substantially since last they met. But his face… he'd aged, certainly, but it was still the very same one which her subconscious pulled into her dreams night after night. He was still the same man she'd prayed for along with her family every night for over a decade.

Her eyes followed him as he continued his greetings, but she was torn from her reverie when a tall figure stepped in front of her.

"Lady Stark," was the curt greeting.

"Brienne!" Arya's face cracked into a wide, unstoppable grin as she took in the woman before her. "How are you? How is Jaime?"

Although his various misdeeds had not been forgotten, Ser Jaime had long since been forgiven for them. During the Battle of King's Landing he had chosen his side, and chosen well; he'd stood against his family, with the exception of Lord Tyrion who stood with him, and sworn his allegiance to Gendry, Robb and Daenerys. Many believed it to simply be a ploy to save his life, however Brienne and now the Starks knew the truth: it was an attempt to repent for his many sins, something he would never stop doing for the rest of his life. A Lannister always pays his debts, after all.

He had since proven himself repeatedly to be loyal and useful and, some two years ago now, he had convinced Lady Brienne of Tarth (with the help of a Sapphire ring, of course) to join his hand in marriage.

Brienne smiled back briefly at Arya's warm welcome. "I am well. We are both well. Jaime would have accompanied me here but he has recently taken up a post at a newly established school. He is teaching history and politics." Pride was evident in her voice as she spoke.

"Oh, was that the new one on the west side of King's Landing?"

"That is correct. Lord Tyrion is already planning the next one, however His Highness insisted on his presence during this visit." She nodded towards where Lord Tyrion and Shae, his wife, and now a Lady, were deep in conversation with Lady Sansa and her husband. "Much like Jaime, he takes his duties seriously and has not taken a break in over a decade. It will be good for him." Brienne allowed herself another small smile.

The schools had been her brother-in-law's brainchild and his own wife was proud of him for it also. It had taken him a few years to find the funding in the budget – the city itself had needed to be rebuilt almost from the ground up, after all – but it was something he believed in. Being Master of Coin didn't hurt either. Lord Tyrion had put forward the proposal that education would lead to a significantly more productive population and in turn would raise everybody's quality of life. So far his theory had been correct. Many adults had learnt new skills or trades and all children were taught to read and write along with many other practical skills from a young age. King's Landing and indeed all seven kingdoms were thriving.

Arya was on the verge of inquiring if Lady Brienne had time to assist in the building of the schools around her duties as head of the Kingsguard when Robb's voice rang out across the courtyard.

"My guests, my friends, my brothers," he began.  
"_And_ sisters," both Arya and Sansa simultaneously corrected him, sharing a mischievous grin between them.

"And sisters," Robb amended good-naturedly. "The King and his companions will be weary from their travels. Let them be shown to their chambers. We shall reconvene at sundown for the feast!" There were cheers from the crowd as the people dispersed and both Royal parties retreated inside.

_**And the feeling I forget**__**  
I'm in love now**_

Arya sighed as she finished dressing for the feast. Tonight she wore a simple charcoal coloured dress along with her fur cloak. Of course, Winterfell was not stuck in its eternal Winter any longer; it was early Autumn and warm outside at that, but the cloak was a comfort of home that Arya enjoyed.

Her dress had none of the fancy embroidery and layered skirts her sister was so fond of; she still hated dressing up, just as she had as a child. At least now she was able to choose her own clothing. Practicality was what she always went for these days, and the knives on her thigh and in her shoe were well hidden by the floor length skirt of her gown.

Looking at herself in the mirror, Lady Stark attempted a smile. Unfortunately, it more resembled a grimace and she sighed once more. After putting a simple clip in her hair she turned her back on her reflection and exited the room.

She was halfway down the hallway when another door opened, slightly behind her.

"Arya?" A voice enquired and she turned, already having identified its owner.

"Your Highness," Arya spoke to Gendry for the first time since his arrival, inclining her head.

"That's 'Gendry' to you, _M'lady_," he retorted, unable to hide a small grin. It made his face look less weathered and weary; for a second he looked young and boyish, just as he did in Arya's memory. Her chest tightened and a feeling came over her then. It was one she could not place and could not remember having felt before, yet knew instinctively that she had. She took a deep breath and shook it off.

"Gendry," she amended curtly, "where is your guard? Lady Brienne?"

"At the end of the hallway," he indicated briefly, "and Lady Brienne requested permission to visit your Mother's grave." Arya blinked but gave no other indication that she was affected by the mention of her Mother. She was a master at keeping her face straight.

Before the silence became awkward, Gendry spoke once more. "I was just on my way to the feast. Would you accompany me?" He closed the door behind him fully and held out his arm.

With no polite way to decline, Arya held back yet another sigh and took it. She could already feel that it was going to be a long night and it would take the majority of her self-control to get through it.

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**Hope you liked it! Let me know what you think?  
This kind of in-between chapter was a bit tough to get out, but I have the next few chapters all planned so, work permitting, they shouldn't take as long!  
There was no new episode this week? What's going on? :(**


	3. Chapter 3 - A Warm Welcome

**A/N Hey everyone, I'm sorry this has taken as long as it has! I had planned to get it up days ago but work has been busy, I managed to catch a cold and I also found out that my Grandparents are in hospital (again). So not the greatest week.**

**Just to let you know, I've edited the previous chapters minutely (just to fix up some spelling, really) and, as you can probably tell, this is un-beta-ed so all the mistakes are my own silly fault.**

**I want to thank you all for the reviews. They are so lovely to read; it makes me really happy to know people are reading this. Please continue letting me know what you think!**

**Anyway, here you go, hope you enjoy :)**

**WARNING - contains explicit violence**

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Before the silence became awkward, Gendry spoke to the Lady at his side.

"Might I ask, Arya, why you are staying in guest chambers?" The rest of the Starks resided on the opposite side of the building; this area was generally unoccupied but for the occasional important visitor from King's Landing. Gendry and his people would fill the majority of the rooms for the next month, perhaps longer.

"I am a guest," Arya replied shortly. After a second however, she sensed that Gendry was waiting for her to elaborate on the matter. She sighed and stared straight ahead as she offered more information. "I do not reside here permanently and thus do not have a permanent room. I travel a lot. The only reason I am here now is because Robb insisted I must be."

"I see," was the King's only response before asking the next question on his mind, "and what about your hair?"

This time Arya turned to look at him and shot back "what about it?"

Much to Arya's displeasure, the man chuckled. "You've kept it short," he stated, noting that it was an inch or so shorter than his at the moment.

"It's more practical like this. Doesn't get in the way."

"Of?"

"Fighting."

"Of course," Gendry murmured with a smile, which in turn caused Arya to allow herself a small grin.

It had been a long time since anyone had accepted how she lived and what she did without argument over morals or indecency. Robb took every chance he got to tell her to settle down; fighting was not a woman's job after all. Sansa frequented her chambers when she visited to tell her of the joys of married life and motherhood. And while Arya adored all of her nieces and nephews, that was not the life she wanted and she was sick to death of being lectured. She was a grown woman, for goodness sake! She would follow her late Mother's example and would make her own decisions about her life.

Gendry however was a King with a woman at the head of his Guard. Arya wondered how much he knew of her choice of career and, for a moment, what his thoughts were on it, before concluding she did not care.

The couple arrived at the banquet hall not a moment later and their conversation was finished. Arya released Gendry's arm wordlessly and went to take a seat beside her sister and brother in law.

Almost immediately Brandon climbed up to sit on her lap. The child was really becoming too big to be held but Arya and Sansa still humoured him and allowed him to do it. He shared so many similarities with his namesake, not just his eyes but his love of climbing and adventure too. Who could blame the sisters if they were overprotective of the boy? They missed their brother.

It was remarkable how close Arya and Sansa had become since the war, considering the state of their relationship beforehand. They had been at each other's throats constantly. Always playing cruel pranks on each other (in Arya's case) and trying to one-up the other and appear superior (in Sansa's); they were the definition of sibling rivalry. But something they had both learnt was that war changes people.

Petty, childish disputes mean nothing when your parents and siblings are being killed left, right and centre and you are but a pawn in a giant game of chess that spans wider than seven kingdoms. That Robb and Sansa were alive and happy now was something that Arya was thankful for every day.

With that thought in her mind, Arya hugged her nephew closer to her and resolved to at least try to enjoy the evening.

_**Your heart's against my chest****  
Lips pressed to my neck**_

It was barely a half hour later – after both Kings had made their speeches and the meal had finally been served – that Arya noticed something alarming. A couple were moving towards the Kings to speak with them, which in itself was not unusual –many were crowded around to have a word or hear a story – but this couple were different.

Arya slid out of her seat silently and made her way towards them.

To the untrained eye they looked like any other Lord and Lady in the room, excited by the festivities and eager to speak with their Kings. Arya's eyes however, were not untrained. She saw the thick winter cloaks they wore and the bulk that should not be present beneath them and slipped through the crowd a little faster.

To all those observing, the next few moments were but a haze of grunts, panicked yells and steel clashing on steel. It seemed to be over very quickly.

But to Arya there was no haze; she felt a blinding clarity and purpose and the fight seemed to stretch out for an eternity. She had all the time in the world to draw the dagger from beneath her dress and slip in on her nimble feet between the woman and her target, Robb. To disarm her before she had a chance to draw her dagger and then to knock her out with a heavy blow to the head with her own weapon. And if she had lost the element of surprise by the time it came to dealing with Gendry's attacker, well, she felt no disadvantage.

The man targeting King Gendry had managed to draw his sword and line up what would have been a killing blow had Arya not used her unparalleled agility once more. Paired with the fight-induced adrenaline-fuelled strength, Arya simultaneously pulled Gendry out of his seat by his arm, wrapped her other arm around him and spun them both out of the way of the attack, almost lifting him clear off the ground.

There was a moment in the middle of this evasive action - probably no more than a split-second, though it felt to Arya like an hour - where their bodies were flush against each other, her cheek pressed to his neck, and she could feel the beat of his heart mirroring her own up against her chest. The moment ended when she pushed Gendry away from her, spun the daggers she held in each hand around and crossed them behind her head, blindly deflecting the blow from behind.

There had been ample time for Gendry's assassin to retrieve his sword from the empty chair it had struck instead of its intended target and Arya had instinctively anticipated his next move. He however, had not anticipated hers.

With a grunt, the man stumbled backwards, taking a second to regain his balance. By this point other swords were drawn, but it was clear this fight was Arya's.

Assuming her favourite fighting stance, knees bent and knives at the ready, Arya addressed her opponent.

"Surrender now and you will be allowed to live. Choose not to and I will slit you from navel to nose before you could say half a prayer," Arya threatened the man, her voice fierce and serious and very very sincere.

With a yell the assassin lunged towards her.

Arya's next movements surprised all who were quick enough to follow the action playing out before them, but no-one was more surprised than Arya herself. She would get like this sometimes in a battle; it would feel as though her body was moving of its own accord. Her muscles would expand and contract on instinct, her mind void of all thought.

Taking a quick step forwards, towards the man charging at her, Arya then pushed off the ground sideways with her left foot. Her right foot was briefly in contact with an empty chair which she used as a springboard to propel her lithe body into the air. In a movement that could only be described as an amalgamation between a back flip and a twist Arya attacked the man from above and behind.

Since she pushed off the ground Arya's body had been in one continuous, swift movement and her next actions did not break that. She landed, with her full weight and force behind her, on the shoulders of Gendry's attacker, instantly overbalancing the man. With the help of another twist, Arya brought the man tumbling to the ground, knocking his elbow and claiming his weapon in the process.

While her opponent hit the stone floor hard, Arya rolled, gracefully regained her footing and, without any further ado, used the tip of the man's own sword to slice him in a straight line from his belly to his head.

There was silence in the hall for a moment as blood and organs spilt out of the body on the floor to stain the pale grey stone. The people watched on as Arya Stark, Lady of Winterfell stood immobile with a bloodied sword in her grasp.

And then there was more shouting, sighs of relief, scattered applause, muffled footsteps as servants rushed forward to clear away the mess. Robb Stark removed the sword from his sister's hand and embraced her, thanking her. The unconscious woman was taken to a cell to be questioned later. The feast continued.

Not too much later Gendry approached the woman who had saved his life.

"I owe you a debt of gratitude, M'lady."

"You owe me nothing," Arya responded evenly, not looking at him.

"That is not true. Tonight is not the first time you've saved my life," Gendry spoke softly to his old friend.

Arya shrugged her shoulders noncommittally and Gendry smiled at her unladylike gesture. But then, what of her behaviour this evening _had_ been ladylike? Gendry offered her his hand, and finally she looked up into his face. Her expression was questioning and Gendry smirked once more.

"You are the hero of the hour. Come sit with me?" he asked.

Reaching up, Arya took his hand.

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**Oooooh what's going on? Who was it trying to kill the Kings? Will Arya and Gendry be friends again? Got any theories?**

**I'll do my best to get more up here ASAP. Thanks again for reading :)**


	4. Chapter 4 - A Conversation

**A/N Hey guys, I'm really sorry this took so long, this last month has been crazy busy. **

**I also lost a bit of motivation to write this after watching the Red Wedding T-T Sorry**

**Hope you enjoy!**

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Arya was tense for the rest of the evening. Had it not been for her closing her eyes and sitting back in her chair periodically, Gendry would have thought she was keeping watch for any more attackers. As it was, Arya was not keeping track of the conversation.

"Arya? Aryaaa?" Sansa said in a sing-song voice, a step away from waving a hand in front of her sister's face. It was Gendry's hand on her elbow that brought her out of her trance however.

"Hm?" Arya looked around. Sansa, Shae, their husbands, and a bunch of Stark children were looking at her expectantly, "Sorry?"  
"Lord Tyrion was just telling the story of his marriage to your sister. She asked where you were when you first heard word of it," Gendry explained. Cate, Eddrick and Brandon had particularly wide eyes as they awaited their Aunt's response, Arya noted. It was more than likely they had never heard about this particular chapter of their mother's life before; they all avoided talking about that time.

"Ah," She gathered her thoughts then began, "Well, I was with Robb and our Mother when the raven came. It was the very same day we'd been reunited. Robb's army was on its way to the Twins. It was to be our Uncle Edmure's wedding that night. I shouldn't have been in the tent really, but Mother wouldn't let me out of her sight." Before her audiences' eyes she seemed to slip into another reverie, her eyes glazing over as she spoke. "It had been so long since I had seen any of my family. The last time was when my Fa- well it was months beforehand. I had begun to think I would never see any of them alive again… and then we got the letter." She paused, then said softly "It was a warning."

Arya looked up and around then, directly at her older brother who was sitting with his wife a few tables away. He looked up and caught her eye and they shared a smile before she continued her narrative.

"The letter was a warning. That Walder Frey had formed an alliance with Tywin Lannister. The wedding was a ruse, to lure in my brother and his men. They were going to hold the wedding and serve them all as much ale as they could drink before slitting their throats in the night and murdering every last Stark soldier."

"Arya!" Sansa warned quietly with a pointed look to the young children.

"Right, but the letter," Arya started off again more briskly, "also brought news from Kings Landing! It informed us of the wedding. It told us that Sansa was safe and well. It was all very confusing from then on. The letter was unsigned and the wax bore no seal. We didn't know who sent it or whether they were trust-"

"Mother was so worried about Sansa she almost forgot of her brother's own wedding," a deep voice above Arya cut in. She twisted around to see Robb standing behind her chair, a faint twinkle of humour in his eyes. "While I prepared my men for the possibility of an attack, Arya tried to calm her down."

"She was terrified for you," Arya said directly to Sansa across the table, before turning her gaze on Tyrion, "but I always had an inkling about who sent that raven."

Tyrion chuckled as the audience's attention switched to him. "Ah, Stark women indeed continue to prove they are as smart as they are beautiful," he smiled and inclined his head at Arya. Shae smacked his arm in mock outrage but she could not keep the smile off of her face.

"It was I who sent the raven," Tyrion addressed Robb, before turning towards Sansa and taking her hand. "I had heard a whisper of what my father was planning and I made the decision, perhaps foolishly, to send warning. But Lady Sansa had been hurt enough." Sansa and Tyrion shared a smile; even after their marriage was officially dissolved, even after all these years and after they both remarried, they were still very close friends, and now it was apparent why.

Suddenly a few of the children spoke at once. "What happened at Uncle Edmure's wedding?" Thea asked her father at the same time Brandon asked his mother how she and Tyrion 'un-married'. The adults laughed and Sansa informed the boy that it was a story for another time.

"I think it is about time for bed, children." Maerys spoke up and Sansa nodded in agreement with her husband.

"Most definitely. It's far too late."

Many moans and groans were heard from the children but Maerys and Robb assured them there would be plenty of time for stories another night; their guests were staying awhile.

As the children rose so did Arya with the offer to accompany the children to their rooms. Gendry stood alongside her and asked quietly if someone else could not do it.

"Stay," he implored her "the night has barely begun, the dancing not yet started."

"There will be plenty of time for dancing another night," was her only reply before walking off with the group of children around her, Brandon's hand in her own.

_**I was made to keep your body warm****  
But I'm cold as, the wind blows****  
So hold me in your arms**_

It was little over an hour later when Arya, having finally gotten all the children to bed and ensuring they were safe, returned to her chambers. She was not expecting to find anyone in the corridor, let alone a shadowy figure leaning up against her door. She approached with caution.

As she crept forward silently she slipped out her knife in preparation, but at the last minute realised who her visitor was. Sliding the knife away before Gendry could see it, she continued to approach the man with special care to make some noise with her footsteps.

"What happened to dancing?"

Gendry looked up at her. "Arya," he smiled, pushing off the door with his elbows to stand up straight. "Might we talk?" he asked her.

Arya took a moment, scrutinising the man before her, before responding with a simple nod. She reached around the man to open the door then gestured for him to enter. She closed the door behind them and walked farther into the room. Lanterns had been lit around the room, as had the fire, to take the chill off the night. They illuminated the room casting a warm orange glow on everything they touched.

Arya walked past the fire and over to the window, standing with her back to the King and staring sightlessly out into the night.

"What did you wish to talk about?" She asked her guest blankly.

"Arya," Gendry stepped towards her, "please look at me?"

The hesitancy in his voice was all it took for Arya to obey his request; he had seemed nothing but confident since he had arrived but insecurity seeped through in his tone now. So she looked at him. It was not her trademark analytical glare this time though, but a look of pure and honest curiosity.

"Why are you here, Gendry?"

"Well it was about time I made the trip here to see Robb, rather than him making another trip to King's Landing. We have many things to dis-"  
"No. No, not that," she interrupted, "why are you _here?_" She pointed at the ground emphatically trying to convey her point. The truth was that she was confused. Who was he, a man she had not seen nor heard from in over a decade, to come barging back into her life now? Why was he here in front of her in the middle of the night?

"Arya… I know it has been a long time. It's been too long." His forehead creased into a frown and he looked pained but he retained eye contact. "To be honest I… I thought about you a lot. But in all of the time that has passed, in all those years, I never once met anyone else quite like you. I missed you," Gendry said softly to the woman before him. He reached a hand out towards her, but withdrew it at the look suddenly on her face.

"Missed me? You never even wrote! Not a single raven. Until it was all almost over? I thought you were dead! I thought that fire-haired witch had killed you. And then after the battle, still you did not write," Arya accused, with a defiant, almost petulant tone seeping into her voice that had not been there for half a decade.

"Nor did you if I am not mistaken," was Gendry's equally defiant reply as he took a step back from the abruptly hostile Lady before him.

"I had a city to rebuild!"

"As did I," he held his ground.

In a swift movement Arya turned back around to face the window. She leant her body on the window sill and listened to the wind outside howl past. Gendry stood silently behind her, ill at ease, awaiting a reply. Despite the fire, Arya began to shiver where she stood.

It was a few minutes more before either spoke again.

"I missed you too." Arya spoke quietly but with sincerity, turning back to face Gendry. She began shivering more violently and this time did not reject Gendry's touch when he reached for her.

She felt like an ice sculpture in Gendry's arms; as cold as the snow north of the wall and unbelievably fragile, like one gust of wind would be all it took to push her over.

Gendry tried to reconcile the two versions of Arya in his mind – the woman warrior, fearless, strong and indestructible and the lonely, delicate girl before him - Held securely in his arms Arya felt a comfort she had not experienced in years.

After a minute or two, Gendry led Arya by her hand over to her bed. Like a child he sat her down and proceeded to remove her shoes then wrap her up in the blankets and furs from the end of the bed. With a gentle pressure on her shoulders he encouraged her to lie down, then covered her with more blankets, tucking them in, ensuring she'd be warm enough. With a stroke to her hair – her eyes were closed and her breathing steady, she seemed to have fallen asleep - he turned to leave.

Just before he could however, Arya's slender arm slid free of its cocoon of blankets and her hand gripped him around the wrist.

"Stay," she whispered. It was not a question or a plea, but nor was it a demand. It was a request; she did not _need_ someone there with her – certainly not, she'd slept alone every night for over a decade - but in her tired, half-asleep state she knew one thing clearly: she _wanted_ Gendry there.

"Okay," Gendry murmured, "okay." He took off his own boots and slipped into the bed beside her. Arya rolled closer to him and without a word he drew her back into his arms. She fell asleep within seconds in his embrace.

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**Oho! What's gonna happen? Any theories? :)**

**I really don't know how I'm gonna survive this break between seasons tbh. Sure Teen Wolf is on atm but it'll finish soon enough and who knows when S3 of Sherlock is really coming... gah TV withdrawal :(  
****Recommendations for shows I should watch?****  
**

**Anywho, thanks for reading, love y'all lots!**


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